The Gloriously Tragic Life of Mathew Kaszab Letters from a Pioneer 1939-1942

The Gloriously Tragic Life of Mathew Kaszab Letters from a pioneer 1939-1942 Mate “Mathew” Kaszab in 1939 Introduction The unusual story of Mathew Kaszab has held an interest for me since I first heard his name in 1976, the year I arrived as a single Bahá’í pioneer to Nicaragua. I found that there was little about him in the archives, which I was able to access while serving in the office of the Nicaraguan National Spiritual Assembly from 1977 to 1983. I did find a copy of the Guardian’s letter to him included in The Bahá’í World; a letter he received sometime after October 1939 upon being asked by the U.S. National Assembly to transfer from Panama to Nicaragua. This letter was shared at our national summer school in Managua, and the few other pioneers present were deeply moved. I never felt there was a thorough understanding about Mathew’s sacrifices, and not much known about his life, either in the U.S. or in Nicaragua, where through his efforts, the very first group of Bahá’ís was formed and the first Nicaraguan Bahá’í, Blanca Mejía, enrolled and stayed steadfast until her death. Mathew was the first pioneer to settle not just in one, but two countries, Panama and Nicaragua. I determined to make his story known to the Nicaraguan community, and wrote a historical narrative in Spanish which summarized what I knew about Mathew at the time, leaving out some of the more delicate issues concerning his imprisonment and eventual deportation.1 ‘Abdu’l-Bahá reminds us that “Not everything a man knoweth can be disclosed, nor can everything that he can disclose be regarded as timely, nor can every timely utterance be considered as suited to the capacity of those who hear it.”2 1 Sadeghpour, Ana El Cuarto Acto: Una Pionera Bahá’í en Nicaragua durante los años 1976-1983 – un relato personal e histórico. Impresión Digital Serfosa, Managua, Nicaragua 2015 2 ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, Selections from the Writings of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá compiled by the Research Department of the Universal House of Justice, Bahá’í World Centre, Haifa, Israel 1978 pp. 268-269 [1] Regarding communications and directives to individual believers in 1939, Artemus Lamb, one of the early pioneers to Latin America and later a member of the Continental Board of Counsellors for the Americas assigned to Nicaragua, stated only slightly more than two decades ago: There is, in my view, a great difference in being a pioneer today in comparison with the period of the First and even Second Seven Year Plan. For one thing, in those days, the pioneer was often the only Bahá'í in a city or town, and, at the very beginning, in the entire country. There were no administrative bodies, and often no other Bahá'ís or even non-Bahá'ís, with whom to consult and receive encouragement and guidance, except for the Inter-America Committee and the Guardian, both far away. Generally, one had to make one's own decisions, resolve one's own problems and those of others, and fight one's own spiritual battles with whatever spiritual recourses one possessed. Many of the pioneers had very limited financial resources and had to live very sacrificially. Means of transportation and general living conditions were still quite elemental. On one hand, it constituted a cause of great tests and naturally there were those who could not pass them and returned to their homes. On the other hand , it was a great blessing, for it obligated a pioneer to dig more deeply into his or her own soul, pray more, develop more capacity and, above all, draw closer to Bahá'u'lláh and confide fully in Him. Personally, I will be eternally grateful for those days. The other face of the coin is that the first pioneers were considered as special persons, viewed by the majority of Bahá'ís, and others as well, with sincere admiration for having had the courage, the faith and devotion to leave the security and comfort of their native country to go to an unknown place in the path of God. I remember, as a new Bahá'í, the great spiritual impact that I felt when I went with others to the dock in Los Angeles to meet Louise Caswell, one of the first pioneers to go out, now returning on her first visit back to the United States from her post in Panama. For many of us, she was the first pioneer from whom we heard, directly from her own lips, an account of her experiences in a foreign land: how she had begun her work, how she had found her first contact, who was the first Bahá'í, etc. How different from today!3 ____________________________________ Mathew’s story is one begging to be told. It is offered here, mostly in the form of letters and through research over the years aided and assisted by others, particularly Mrs. Vicky Majewski of Darwin, Northern Territory, Australia and later by photo researcher Gyorgy Nemeth as regards Mathew’s ancestors. Vicky’s family lives near the resting place of Mathew Kaszab in Brownsville, Texas and friends in the area visit and take care of his grave site each year. To the Freeth and Pietrzak families I am grateful. All letters in this compilation have been accessed courtesy of the U.S. Bahá’í national archives. Anne Sadeghpour Compiler Santa Monica, California 2019 November 1939 It was with unexpressed regret that Mathew accepted instructions from the Inter-America Committee to transfer to Nicaragua, a post where he was so urgently needed. The small cattle 3 Lamb, Artemus, “The Beginnings of the Bahá’í Faith in Latin America: Some Remembrances” Van Orman Enterprises, San Salvador, El Salvador 1995 [2] boat, the Acajutla, dubbed as “not worth a German bomb” by Mathew, was waiting to take him on the next part of his journey as a pioneer. As dusk fell, Louise [Caswell] and Cora [Oliver] came to say good-by to him. As they stood on the floating dock, Mathew sang a heart-rending chant he had composed about the Dawn-Breakers. The three pioneers were surrounded by the spirit of God as they stood alone in that profound silence by the sea, as though they were the only people in the world at that moment. After giving them a kiss on the cheek, Mathew boarded his boat which slowly disappeared into the dark night, up the western coast to Nicaragua.4 ___________________ This is the story of Mathew Kaszab, also known as Mate, a solitary figure who responded to the 1939 call from the Guardian to give special priority to the Republic of Panama, “both in view of its relative proximity to the heart and center of the Faith in North America, and of its geographical position as the link between two continents…Preference, no doubt, should be given by all would-be pioneers, as well as by the members of the Inter-America Committee, to the spiritual needs of this privileged Republic…”5 Mathew holds the distinction of being the first pioneer to settle in two countries, Panama and Nicaragua. What were the circumstances that put Mathew on a cattle boat to Nicaragua, leaving the pioneering post in Panama to which he had dedicated his heart and soul in obedience to the Guardian’s call, without waiting for special instruction, much like Martha Root packing her suitcases in 1919 after the unveiling of the Tablets of the Divine Plan revealed by ‘Abdu’l-Bahá? To what new circumstances was he committing himself, and what were the qualities of his character that allowed him to obey, sacrifice, and serve in both his temporary post in Panama and his new one in Nicaragua? What adventures, trials, and adversities did he face? Was he accompanied along the way; and if so, by whom and with what result? This narrative will attempt to answer some of these questions and to give us some insights into the character of Mathew Kaszab, at different times called “saintly, Christ-like” and “without human passions” and at others seen as needing to curb his natural instinct to speak flippantly of those with whom he was attempting to share the ideals of his beloved Bahá’í Faith. One must consider the period in which Mathew traveled to Central America, and the background from which he came, as these elements tie into his story and influenced the circumstances under which he lived in Nicaragua, a country in which he suffered both emotionally and physically, and a place included in those described by the Guardian himself as regions remote, backward, and inhospitable6 mostly because of a suffocating climate, almost impassable terrains, extreme poverty, and a general lack of sophistication about the rest of the world. It was the time of World War II, and North American and other foreign visitors to Central America were few enough to be suspect if they did not hold a transparent view on politics. Phrases such as “world order” and the “unification of mankind” could well 4 Wegener, Daniel Nelson, Divine Springtime: Louise Caswell Recalls the Early Years of the Bahá’í Faith in Central America and Panamá, Union Press, Tegucigalpa, Honduras 1977, pp. 21-22. 5 Shoghi Effendi, The Advent of Divine Justice, Bahá’í Publishing Trust, Wilmette, Illinois 1966 ed., p. 59. 6 Shoghi Effendi, Citadel of Faith: Messages to America 1947-1957, Bahá’í Publishing Trust, Wilmette, Illinois 1965, p. 110. [3] have been misinterpreted, especially when spoken by someone who did not speak Spanish and whose second language was English.

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